


A Reminder of Your Efforts

by orphan_account



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Affection, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arcades, Best Friends, Bitterness, Body Dysphoria, Body Image, Comfort/Angst, Disordered Eating, Friendship/Love, Inspired by Art, Lashing Out, M/M, Minor Acts of Punishment, Negative Thoughts, Negative self-image, Non-Sexual Intimacy, OT4, Positive Reassurance, Second Guessing, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Spoiler Free Territory, depressive tendencies, goofing off, stretch marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9169234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Prompto's not having a great day. He gets into his own head, but thankfully, the others are able to put him in a better place.





	1. Promise of the Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this beautiful art work](https://twitter.com/Owlteria/status/814132123913306112) by Owlcapone. We've had those days, Prom.

On most days, Prompto was proud of himself. He had lost a considerable amount of weight all on his own over a steady course of time. Granted, Noctis was the catalyst for this change, but Prompto didn't feel bad about it. He didn't regret it in the end. Outside of fighting bad guys and running headlong into danger, he had a pretty healthy lifestyle now, far better than it was before. On every plane, _he_ was much better than he was before. Most days, he remembered that.

On other days, he felt low. He questioned his motivations; he wondered if losing weight was really all it took to make and _keep_ him happy. On those days, he struggled with the answer. A reminder of what he had done was permanently etched on his skin. His stretch marks had faded over the years but  only somewhat. T hey were still there, still prominent. Most days he could love them, and he did...!

Just... not today...

Today,  Prompto stood in the bathroom mirror. His left hand held up his shirt. His right hand rubbed over the small bump under his belly button. He felt that gentle softness and rubbed over the numerous stretch marks that  came up from his thighs and over his hips. He looked to his left arm, touching under his tricep as he knew there were marks there too. Lighter, standing almost white against his pale skin, but they were there. He took in a breath, lips quivering as he continued touching over himself, retracing the numerous markings and feeling as many as he could over his skin or through his clothes. He frowned at himself in the mirror as he stroked his right thigh . His jeans covered the stretch marks,  but he knew they were there.

He stood there too pained by the familiarity, too numb to move. He heard their suite door click closed and slowly pulled down his shirt. He smoothed it over his hips and over his groin and stared up at his reflection and regretted what he saw. His lips curved down in a frown and slapped his hand over his reflection, jerking his head away so he wouldn't have to stare at the damned thing anymore. A sob started, a dry shuddering of breath, but he locked himself up before the tears came. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, fiddling with his shirt one last time before he turned away. He opened his eyes, soon seeing that the door was opened. He stared at it in horror. How could he have forgotten? The others could have barged in on his intimate, self-loathing ritual and saw him.

Or worse– and the thought made his stomach turn– they could have thought that he _wanted_ them to see. 

The train of thoughts was enough to make him frustrated, upset. He pinched under his right arm and yelped when the skin broke. H rubbed at his arm, feeling the small prickling of blood and could only think "Good". He headed out.

        "'Ey, Prompto," Noctis greeted from his position near the armoire  .

        Prompto looked around, quickly noticing that Noctis was alone, and gave a weak laugh. "Hey, Noct... Bring anything back?"

        "Iggy's got it in the car," Noctis replied with a wave of his hand.

        Prompto ducked his head down and slid his hands into his back pockets. "Cool, cool..." A beat. He drew in a breath as he stood up straight, pointing his thumb over his left shoulder. "Hey, did you—"

        "You okay?" Noctis cut in, squinting his eyes in Prompto's direction. "You got this... look on your face."

Prompto's face fought for the right expression. He smiled too quickly, sharply, but managed to fight it down into something manageable. He fought so valiantly with that that he didn't have any strength left to tackle his voice.

        "Tryin' to tell me you don't like my face, Noct?" he asked, voice trembling with emotion just barely contained. He turned his head away quickly. 

_Shit._

        Noctis moved away from the wall and stepped closer to Prompto. His voice was low, an attempt at comforting, when he said, "No, that's not what I meant..."

_…_ **_Fuck_** _._

Prompto took a step back to keep distance between them. Noctis froze. Prompto felt bad again. Noctis canted his head slightly, pushing his hands palm down towards the ground slowly.  The universal sign  of calm.

        "What happened?" Noctis asked again, quieter this time, concern touching the grainy drag of his voice.

        "I'm just... having a bad day."

        "Okay... Is that it?"

Noctis moved forward slowly, reaching out his hand unsurely to take Prompto's. But then the blond grabbed Noctis' wrist and pulled it closer. He used his other hand to push up his shirt slightly, allowing Noctis to touch at the baby fat on his belly and the stretch marks Noctis surely felt as soft ridges.

        Prompto spoke with an audible strain. "This is it..."

Noctis sighed, not one of exasperation. Pity, maybe, but something heartfelt. More sympathetic. 

        "Prompto," Noctis breathed, touching for a moment over the stretch marks before pulling his own hand away.

Prompto knew of was more out of respect, but some part of him shared Noctis' imagined disgust. He wouldn't want to touch for very long, either. Noctis' hands came to rest on Prompto's waist. Over his clothes, Prompto noted distastefully. Noctis took a step closer, meeting Prompto's gaze easily. Prompto's lips tugged down in the left corner , and he felt that burning desire to look away. To run or lock himself in the bathroom again. But he didn't. He, almost frightfully, stayed in place.

        "You look good," Noctis started. "I'm proud of you, yeah?"

        "Proud of me?" Prompto couldn't keep himself from repeating the words, disbelief in his voice.

        "You did this on your own, didn't you? You've done so well to keep it up."

        "Yeah, but… the marks are…"

        "A part of you." Noctis rubbed his thumbs over Prompto's waist, idly. "It's okay, really it is."

        Prompto squinted his eyes, suspiciously, and then looked away. "You're just saying that." 

        "Prompto." Noctis moved closer until their fronts were touching, tipping his head to meet Prompto's gaze.  Prompto's heart leapt in his throat; he was shocked by the steely, serious look in Noctis' eyes. "You've seen the scar on my back."

        Prompto hesitated before talking. "Y-yeah, but I—" 

        "You've seen. the scar. And you don't think any less of me."

        "… No."

        "You don't think it's ugly."

        Prompto looked offended. How could he? Cool, maybe, but he didn't think it was hideous or anything. "No, I—"

        "I deal with it. It's mine. I want to say that I would rather have the stretch marks, but I won't take that away from you." Noctis frowned slightly, a small, pleading action for him. "You've done something great for yourself. You know that, right?"

There was an argument to be had. Surely there was, but Prompto's self-loathing, all of his dissatisfied logic, had gone quiet. He tipped his head down, staring at Noctis' chest. He curled his fingers around Noctis' wrists.

        "Yes," he whispered.

        "You look amazing, Prom. Stretch marks and all. Just reminds me that you're more dedicated than I would have been." Noctis smirked. "Jogging every day? If I had a choice, I woulda passed on that."

        Prompto laughed in spite of himself. He brought his head up to meet Noctis' gaze. "You would have," he said softly; there was still a touch of sadness in his voice.

        Noctis' lips quirked up in the right corner. He gave Prompto's hips a squeeze. "Come on. Let's head to the arcade."

        "There's an arcade?" Prompto's voice lilted, slowly livening up.

        "It's at the diner. Come on, let's go."

Noctis laced his fingers with Prompto's and pulled the blond out of the room. Prompto looked to the back of Noctis' head, smiling softly. He was grateful for him. Completely and utterly grateful…


	2. Trying to Forget

Noctis did a good job in helping Prompto keep his mind off of what happened earlier. The arcade was bumping with all kinds of activity. There was a birthday party in one corner, which only pumped more energy into the room. There were a lot of Prompto and Noctis’ favourites, the two males enthusiastically reminiscing as they passed by the cabinets. Prompto dropped coins into one of the games. White balls clattered to the end of the receptacle, and he lowered a hand down to pick up one.

    “Remember when we were playing The Undead Manor and all the lights went off?” he asked with a smile as he rolled the ball up the ramp.

    Noctis laughed beside him, arms folded over his chest. “We both screamed like babies and kept shooting anyway.”

    Prompto grabbed another ball but then made a gun shape with his fingers. “'N-Noct, Noct! There’s one over there.'”

    Noctis joined him, leaning fearfully towards Prompto as he aimed off to the right. “'I see i— AH! What was that!'”

    Both of them then huddled together and shouted, “' **AH!** Gladio! Don’t scare us like that!!'”

They laughed and separated from each other. Prompto grabbed two more balls and then rolled all three up the ramp in quick succession, trying to beat the timer. He let out a fond sigh, and Noctis patted his back. 

    “Gonna get something to eat. Want something?”

    “You kidding?” Prompto asked as he grabbed another white sphere and turned it between his hands. “I’m just getting warmed up!”

Noctis laughed and gave a thumbs up in return. When he turned away, Prompto glanced over to Noctis’ back. His face went neutral. He fiddled with the white ball, turning it a few more times before looking away and rolling it up the slope as well. He paid for another game and somehow found himself falling into a relaxed rhythm. By the time Noctis came back, Prompto had slid over to basketball, pretending to dribble and juke before tossing the ball. Noctis watched with idle fascination, making half-assed sports commentary, and Prompto theatrically played it out.

    “Good handling,” Noctis commented at the end of it all.

Prompto snorted and headed over towards a gaming vehicle. It was a dinosaur exploration game. He waved Noctis over towards it.

    “Ignis and Gladio would stomp a hole in me.”

    “Yeah, they’re pretty vicious,” Noctis replied lowly, nonchalantly.

Gladio and Ignis took their games _very seriously._

Noctis set down his drink next to the arcade jeep as he and Prompto climbed it. They slid the door curtains closed, and Prompto excitedly bounced in place as he fed the machine itself coins. Prompto brought his hands to the driver’s wheel, and Noctis grabbed the orange plastic gun. He pulled the pump to reload, and soon, the game began. Noctis (aka “The Caelum Deadeye”) fired off his gun at every reptilian and human adversary they had, but when they were finally chased by dinosaurs, Noctis and Prompto yelled like the children they were as the arcade jeep’s hydraulics tossed them about. 

    “Steer right!”

    “I am; it bit our wheel!”

    “We’re gonna crash!”

    “Deadeye, jump out!”

    Noctis flicked his head over towards Prompto. “There’s no way I’m leaving you, Rush.”

    Prompto sighed theatrically, looking smitten. “Deadeye…”

And then a triceratops rammed their car, jerking the vehicle to the left sharply. The sound of steam escaping filled the speakers. “Game Over” lowered down to the center of the screen in all caps. Prompto leaned back against his chair and let out a laugh. He laughed for about fifteen seconds before there was a tightness in his chest, demanding that his laughter turn into crying. He took in a long breath through his nose and closed his eyes, forcing down the irrational demand as deep as it would go. He managed to keep the smile on his face as he turned his head towards Noctis.

    “We got owned by dinosaurs.”

    “Totally.” Noctis pushed aside the curtain, leaning down to get his drink. “Wanna try again?”

    Prompto looked off to the side and then shook his head. “Nah… Let’s try something else.”

They wandered around for a while, looking at the different arcade cabinets and the table games that were basically thinly veiled gambling machines. Or at least Noctis thought as much. Prompto felt content in just walking a pace or two behind Noctis, watching as his friend walked with the straw between his lips, cup held loosely in his hand. Noctis walked slowly, hips swaying with every forward movement. Prompto watched, suddenly feeling so lonely. There was a hallow pit in his stomach. As Noctis walked, Prompto somehow felt as if the slightly taller male was getting further away. Prompto’s brows twitched, and he felt himself rushing forward. He wrapped his arms around Noctis’ waist and pressed his face against the other’s neck. 

    “Everything okay?” Noctis asked, and Prompto could feel Noctis’ voice rumbling against his lips.

    Prompto took inhaled quickly through his nose and hooked his chin on Noctis’ shoulder. “Just being a pest.” _As always,_ he thought to himself, squeezing Noctis around the waist. “Oh my god! They have Manor, here!”

    “Let’s play it in a bit. You hungry?”

    “Are you still?” Prompto asked incredulously. He poked teasingly at Noctis’ stomach and felt as if he jabbed himself in the heart.

    “S’only arcade food. Want something?”

    “Nope,” Prompto said as he drew himself away, heading to another shooting game, this one a cover-shooter.

He wasn’t really in the mood to eat… He didn’t really want to think about it. He searched his pockets for the right amount of coins, and he looked over to see Noctis staring at him with a look of concern on his face. Prompto’s heart thumped at the look, but he rolled at the sympathetic stare. He reached over to punch his friend in the arm, smirking. 

    “Just get me a soda,” he said, saying anything to get rid of that searching, concerned stare. “If I gorge myself now, Iggy’ll bite my head off when dinner comes around.”

Prompto wasn’t sure if he cared if Noctis believed him or not. He just needed to get away from that _look_ , that look on a face he otherwise liked to have around. Noctis turned away, heading to the front counter. Prompto was so relieved to be alone. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, turning towards the arcade game with dread in his heart. He hoped and hoped that Noctis wouldn’t bring him any food. he wasn’t sure what he would do if that happened. Prompto lifted the gun up to his eyes and shot as enemies popped up on screen. Ah, it was an on rails cover shooter. Even better, he was happy to just shoot at things while the game did most of the work for him. 

He ran his tongue over the front of his bottom row of teeth, bumping up his bottom lip as his tongue went back and forth. He was partway through the third level when Noctis returned. Prompto saw him in the left corner of his vision, and his heart began racing again. _Please, gods, please…_ he begged internally.

    “Soda,” Noctis said as he placed the medium drink down. Copious amounts of ice bumped around inside.

    Prompto quickly glanced down to it before bringing his attention back up to the screen. “Thank you!”

_Oh, thank god…_ he thought with a shudder, eyes shutting tightly closed for a brief second. He then opened his eyes and kept shooting.

    “You know the real reason I didn’t want anything, right?” he began, not taking his eyes off the rapidly appearing enemies. His trigger finger was starting to hurt, but he could see “HIGH SCORE” flashing at the top of the screen. No way he was going to stop!

    “Why’s that?” Noctis asked with a mouth full of a hot dog. 

    “So I can eat off you~” Prompto teased, leaning towards Noctis and going  _“aaah”_ as he kept focusing on the screen. 

    “You know they have restaurants for that?”

Noctis broke off a tiny piece of his hot dog and fed it to Prompto, who was thankful for the tiny portion. He honestly didn’t want _anything_ , but he needed to keep this air and mood light…

    Prompto briefly chewed what was in his mouth. “No way.”

    “Yup. Hey, I wanna play.”

    “I’m almost at the end.”

    “There’s no way you’re–"

Just as Noctis was about to protest, Prompto shot the last enemy in the head. He set the gun against his shoulder and looked over towards Noctis with a smirk as the game tallied up his over all score. Noctis looked from Prompto to the screen before saying,

    “So, you must be a psychic.”

    “Nuh-uh. It said it on the selection screen!” 

    “I wasn’t here for that, so there’s no way you can prove it.”

    “Noctis!” Prompto laughed and slotted his gun back into its metal holster. 

    He picked up his soda from the console as Noctis checked his phone. “Ignis wants to meet us out front in like twenty minutes.”

    “I see his parent mode is all a-go,” Prompto joked. 

He took a sip of his soda and the strength of the dark soda cut up his stomach, making him grit his teeth. He shook the cup, listening to the ice inside, and following after Noctis to one final game. Prompto slowly made his way through the drink as he chose to watch Noctis play instead of join in himself. The cup was still 3/4s full when they left, and it was still mostly full when he discreetly threw it in the trash.


	3. An Advisor's Assurance

Prompto was honestly _glad_ to get back to the camp. As soon as the Regalia pulled up, he jumped out and ran straight towards the tent. He just needed to lay down for maybe five, ten…

Fifteen years max.

He curled into himself, curling up like a comical little pill bug. He heard the other’s curious voices, and Gladio pulled back the tent flap to stared down at the blond. Prompto tightened up on himself and said, in a shriveled old voice,

    “No one’s here…”

    “Just us weirdos, right?” Gladio jabbed.

Prompto quickly unfolded and pouted up at his friend. Gladio laughed and then patted the air.

    “I’ll let you rest.”

    “Yeah, you better!” Prompto stuck his tongue out and then laid down again.

Augh, his head was pounding. He sighed out slowly through his nose and hoped that sleep would come. Just for a little while. His stomach ground, and it gave him all the wrong signals. He shushed his stomach, rubbing his hand over it. His pinky caught under his shirt, brushing against the stretch marks, and Prompto nearly jumped out of his skin. Whenever he felt like this, it was always as if a stranger was touching him. His skin crawled, and suddenly, he was aware of _everything_. Prompto rolled onto his back and stretched out his legs. He stared hopelessly up at the tent ceiling.

There was no way he was going to sleep like this.

    “Please…” he heard himself beg in a whisper. “Just for a little while… let me—"

His breath hitched; fear caught in his throat, and he quickly pretended to be asleep. He gave a fake tired noise and rolled onto his side. He pressed his palm against his forehead; fingers threaded in with the blond mop of hair. He heard someone pull open the tent flap and then stand there. Prompto’s brows tightened. Who was that…?

    Ignis’ voice came softly, questioningly. “Prompto?” 

    “Nn, yeah?” Prompto attempted to sound groggy as he lifted his head up.

    “I’m going to the inn to check us out. Did you need me to get anything while I’m there?”

    “N-no, I’m fine.” He started to lay his head back down before jerking up slightly to say, “Thanks, Iggy.”

    “Welcome.” Ignis stepped out and said to the others, “Be back soon.”

    “Alright,” said Noctis.

    “Safe trip,” added Gladiolus.

Prompto brought himself back into his former position. He wished good-bye to that awful bathroom that brought his attention to all of this. Logically, he knew it wasn’t the restroom’s fault. He had his days; he had his moments, but right now, he just needed something to blame. His stomach growled, and he almost pinched himself again for having that damn soda. But he didn’t– he didn’t. He just _barely_ refrained. But damn.

He was really mad about that soda.

He wasn’t sure how or when he fell into his fitful sleep. Prompto was just glad that he had it. He woke up with a crick in his neck and a mean headache on the side of his face, but still. A few hours of darkness were better than nothing. When he woke up, it must have been just about sundown. Maybe just at or a little bit after. He wasn’t entirely sure and he wasn’t taking out his phone. Thinking on it, it was probably… on airplane mode. When all of this started, he just– so dearly– needed to be left alone. It was entirely possible that he just didn’t have it on at all.

Prompto gave a heavy sigh as he finally sat up. He could smell the aroma of food, and he just wanted to get away. The smell upset him, but unfortunately, he hadn’t had anything all day. He debated on the importance of eating right this very second (or even just today). He could hear two voices drifting further away, and soon, things fell quiet. Prompto glanced over to the tent entrance and crawled over towards it. He opened it slowly, not wanting anyone to know he was here. The entrance was partially zipped at the tip while the rest of the flap just hung freely. He looked out and didn’t immediately see anyone. As he stepped out, he looked to see Ignis practically emerging out of the shadows. 

They looked at each other in shock. Prompto because he thought he was alone– he wasn’t sure what the look on Ignis’ face was.

    “Oh. I didn’t know you were awake,” Ignis said.

    That settled that. Prompto shrugged up his shoulders. “Didn’t mean to sleep so late. Actually… what time is it?”

    “That’s fine. And it is…” Ignis pulled his phone out of his back pocket and checked it nonchalantly. “6:07.” He slipped it back into his pocket and added, “You slept for four hours.”

    “Jeez.” Prompto closed his eyes, rubbing his fingers over the sides of his nose.

    Ignis smirked. “Do you want to eat?”

    “No,” Prompto said flatly as he dropped his hands. “I mean, no. Not  _really._ I had something with Noctis– back at the arcade.”

    Ignis raised a brow then, walking over towards the pot. “It’s only arcade food. You need something with more sustenance.”

    The stone was back, setting heavy in his stomach. “Iggy…” he began, shaking his head, trying not to plead. “Really. I’m not hungry. Please, I just…” He needed to think of something. He rubbed the back of his neck and hooked the thumb of his other hand in his jean pockets. “I’ll eat something later, okay? A guy just woke up.” He laughed, weakly. It sounded bad and he knew it did.

    But Ignis let it slide. “Hm,” was all the advisor said at first. He made himself a bowl. “Alright then.”

Prompt sat down in his chair, and soon, Ignis sat in his own as well. He was two chairs over from Prompto’s left. The blond laced his fingers together, rubbing his thumbs against each other as he thought about what to do. He stared at the fire for answers, telling himself to _get it together_. He was doing so well earlier in the day when he was by himself. And then he let Noctis in on the “big emotional secret” and now he was having a hard time keeping his emotions to himself. He tightened his hands together, brought his hands to his lips, and bit down on the index finger closest to his mouth.

_Just get it together. It’ll pass in a while. They don’t care; they don’t care,_ he told himself, trying to drive home the age old reminder. _They’re worried about how this makes_ them _feel. Don’t take that to mean they care about you._

His eyes winced at the mental words. He swallowed on the thick feeling in his throat. He stood up, started pacing, and only stopped doing so when he saw Gladio and Noctis fighting in the distance. Sparks bounced off their weapons, and battle cries filled the air. The sight was relaxing, and he almost wanted to jump in just to keep himself from thinking.

    “I feel like something’s troubling you,” Ignis said, spooning through the last of his food. His cell phone was resting on his right thigh. “It might help if you told me– or told anyone, really.”

    “Not really,” Prompto mumbled, echoing his thoughts without meaning it. No, _fuck it_. He meant it. “It’s something dumb anyway.”

    “Somehow I doubt that.” Ignis leaned his head back, finishing the last of his food. He deposited the spoon into the bowl, picked up his phone with his free right hand, and stood up. He set his disposable dishes down next to the gas burner and looked over towards Prompto. “Whatever it is you shouldn’t keep it to yourself,” he said evenly.

Prompto felt himself getting upset. He had already been through this once today with Noctis. That should have been the end of it. He should just get _over it_ , but he couldn’t convince himself to. One talk should have been enough, but apparently, it fucking wasn’t. He took in a sharp, heavy breath and looked away.

    Ignis spoke, “Prompto, I—“

    “Just let it go, okay?!” Prompto snapped, turning his head towards Ignis with his eyes closed. “It’s not as if any of you can relate! I don’t know why I even bothered.”

    “Relate to what?” Ignis asked carefully, taking a step towards Prompto, but he stopped immediately when the blond stomped towards him.

Prompto looked up to meet Ignis’ gaze. He shifted side to side in place, looking antsy as if he wanted to lash out in some other, more physical way, but he kept himself from doing at least that.

    “Do you have any scars, Ignis?”

    Ignis looked confused. “No.”

    “Do you have any–“ Prompto looked down Ignis’ form, motioning his hands upward quickly as he did. “– _stretch marks_?”

Realisation dawned on Ignis’ face. Prompto looked up and nodded angrily. What made him even more upset was that he already _knew_ the answer to all of these questions, and he was just making himself even more upset just by hearing them. He felt his heart beating intensely against his chest.

    “Guess what? I have _tonnes of them_!” Prompto snapped. He knew that Ignis knew, and that made him mad too. “And they’re mostly right here.” He stroked up his thighs and then over his stomach. “I’ve got a few here too. Right under my arms.” He tugged at the space between his arm and chest, doing that to both sides. “And you don’t have _any_ of that!”

Ignis wasn’t to blame. He got away with scratches and scrapes from their battles, but it wasn’t his fault that life just played out differently for them. Knowing this, feeling this, Prompto couldn’t care. He took a step back and curled his fingers into fists.

    “You don’t have… a single _goddamn thing_ that I have. But you’re gonna try and sympathise with me? Huh?! Because you pity me?! Is that it?” He leaned forward on his left foot, fingers tight at his sides. He knew he was just being angry, but he didn’t. fucking. care.

Silently, Ignis just took all of this. Prompto felt tears stinging at the corner of his eyes, and he just wanted to be angry. He needed to be strong during all of this! Not cry like a fucking wimp. His expression tightened and he brought his hands to himself. He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. 

    “Dammit, _dammit…_ ” he whimpered, turning his back to Ignis.

Prompto felt arms wrap around his middle and he weakly fought against it.

    “Let go of me,” he whispered, voice and conviction weak as he tried to elbow at Ignis. But a soft kiss against the back of his neck had him falling apart. He wrapped his arms over Ignis' and grit his teeth. He tried so hard to keep it together, but the other’s words started picking at his defenses.

    “It’s okay, Prompto. I understand you,” Ignis began. “Maybe not what you went through or even the full extent of what you’re feeling. But I understand you.” Ignis drew back an arm to gently pet through Prompto’s blond hair. He pushed it aside, so he could lay another kiss right against a prominent notch of Prompto’s spine. “A few markings won’t change who you are. You're beautiful– handsome still. Stretch marks and all.”

Noctis said the same thing, and for some reason, it all felt scripted. Prompto panicked, hyperventilating as his mind mocked him, telling him that it was all faked. They had it rehearsed. He wanted to fall over, but Ignis’ strong arms kept him standing. Prompto choked on a sob and let his weight sink down. Ignis went down with him.

    “– go of me,” Prompto begged. “You’re lying.” He hiccuped on his tears. “You’re both lying…”

    “‘Who' both?” Ignis whispered, keeping his voice soft, comforting.

    “You…” Promtpo hiccuped again, turning his head away. His right hand dug into Ignis’ arm. “Noctis.”

    Ignis shook his head. “We’re not lying,” he assured softly.

    “You both… you both…!” Prompto grit his teeth and shook his head. It wasn’t stopping the tears, but it was keeping down the deeper sadness in some small way. “You both said the same thing.”

    Ignis gently rubbed at Prompto’s side with just his fingers. “Why would we be lying then…?”

    “Because you…” Prompto let go and brought his hand up to his face. He was trying to keep it together, but the tears kept trying to fall anyway. Finally, he gave up. He gave up and just stared sobbing. Ignis held him anyway.

    Ignis gave Prompto a moment, touching their temples together as he silently listened. “We care about you, Prompto.” Prompto shook his head, and Ignis shushed him. “We do… We care about you a lot.”

    “But… you said–“ Prompto's mind was still trying to fight where his mouth couldn’t.

    Ignis sighed through his nose. “We spoke the truth.” He moved his right hand to take Prompto’s left, lacing their fingers together. Prompto held on for dear life and _hated_ the way he sounded when he cried. “There’s nothing wrong with any part of you. The stretch marks happened, but you did a good thing. You carefully bettered yourself. Is there anything wrong with that?”

    Prompto shook his head.

    “Have we ever discouraged you in any way?”

    Again, Prompto shook his head.

    “And we never will. We’re proud of you.” Ignis touched his lips to the side of Prompto’s neck. “Nothing will ever change that.”

    Prompto gasped as he fought to catch his breath. “Ignis…”

    “It’s okay.” Ignis groaned minutely as he sat down flat on the earth. He pulled Prompto in a closer position towards his body. “It’s okay, Prompto. I’ve got you."


	4. Bolstering by the Bodyguard

He felt like an absolute fool.

What else was there to feel? He was glad when nighttime fully came around. The sky opened out above him as more stars came up into view. Prompto moved into a clearing, just needing enough space to look up at the sky and marvel at the clouds that still stood out so beautifully even at night. When the others wished him good night, he returned the words distractedly, just barely turning to wave them off. He wiggled his fingers in a farewell gesture towards Ignis before looking back forward. He could focus this way. It was nice to be by himself.

He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back on the grass. The grass felt prickly, even when he adjusted, but there was no way he was going to get up now. His shirt lifted up slightly, and he just… couldn’t care anymore. He was so goddamn tired; he just wanted to close his eyes and waste away. Maybe someone up above would take pity on him and turn him into stars. He already wore them on his body. Wouldn’t that just be fair transcendence? 

He let out a long sigh through his nose and focused on the crispness of the night. There were crickets chirping. He could hear them all around, but they still sounded distant. Which was fine by him. He didn’t really want to deal with any bugs crawling on him. He gave a weak laugh. 

When he heard footsteps approaching, Prompto opened his eyes and barely leaned his head back. He saw Gladio’s impressive figure coming towards him, and there was a spike of jealousy. Prompto closed his eyes and reminded himself that he was too tired of dealing with this. He was all cried out; he just wanted to fall asleep at this point. Gladio came to sit down beside him, and for a long time, they said nothing. Prompto would have liked it, but……

     “Did the others tell you?” he asked with a neutral voice.

     “Yeah,” Gladio said in a similar one. “They told me some things.”

     “Ah.” A beat of silence. “Like what?”

     “Just that you’re not feeling okay.” Gladio looked over to Prompto, staring down with hooded eyes. “You’re feeling down on yourself today and that you might need some space.”

     Prompto opened his eyes. “Yeah?”

     Gladio nodded and looked away. He didn’t seem put off. If anything, he seemed more alert as he scanned the area. He stood up and dusted himself off. “Just wanted to check on you myself. I’m gonna go check the area.”

     “Okay,” Prompto said softly. He watched as his companion went and let out another sigh.

There was silence and a momentary rustling in the trees before silence fell again. Prompto closed his eyes, actually feeling the natural tug of sleep coming over him. He was grateful, so infinitely grateful, that this horrible day was almost over. And if that meant he could get one final look at the stars before it ended, well– that was just a bonus to him. He slept for a brief while, only to awake when he heard footsteps again. Gladio was approaching from the opposite end of the camp, dusting his hands as he walked past Prompto. 

     “Night,” he said. He then pointed at Prompto. “Be careful if you fall asleep out here. Might get bit up my some critters.”

     “Gladio, wait,” Prompto’s voice was broken with fatigue. Sleep was a weight on his lungs, making it hard to breathe for a moment.

     “Hm?” 

Prompto motioned for Gladio to come closer and then patted the ground for the other male to sit next to him. Gladio did as he was silently told, and Prompto decided to speak when he had a proper breathing pattern again. He didn’t want to go through the same thing he had with Noctis and Ignis, and it’d be worse if the others talked about it when he was awake. Whispering behind his back like he was broken or something— the very thought sent a chill up his spine, and he hated the way it made him feel. He hated the way everything made him feel today, but thank the gods he was numb. He was finally fucking numb.

     “It’s a bad body day,” Prompto said finally. “I’m just feeling really bad about…” He pat his stomach. “These.”

Gladio took a moment of silence but merely nodded. He didn’t question it out loud, and Prompto already knew that he knew, but one of the other two might have brought it up as well. Gladio placed his hands down on the grass.

     “And you talked with the other two?”

     Prompto scoffed. “Talk’s not really the word for it when it came to Ignis.”

     Gladio smirked. “Yeah, I figured…”

Gladio and Noctis had returned to camp to see Prompto and Ignis sitting on the floor. Ignis was cradling Prompto as he cried and then they sat there until Prompto had the strength to pull himself away. Granted, they had all been through a lot together physically, emotionally, damn near spiritually, but even still, that was one of the most embarrassing things in Prompto’s life. Gladio sighed through his nose and laid down onto his back. He looked over and opened out his left arm to the blond.

     “Come here, Prompto,” he said kindly, voice low and gravelly. It was comforting to hear.

Prompto was tired of fighting, so he moved closer. He came to rest his head on Gladio’s chest and once again felt a small jealousy spike through his person. Gladio adjusted the blond against him, wrapped his left arm around Prompto’s waist. They both stared up quietly at the stars.

     “Wanna talk with me?” Gladio asked softly.

     “I guess.” Prompto gave a noncommittal shrug.

     “Okay.” Gladio laughed in huffs of air. No real sound came out. “If you do, why don’t you tell me, in your own words, how you feel about yourself today?”

That was… pretty heavy to answer, and with Gladio, Prompto knew there was no pressure. He decided to take his time. How did he feel? Ridiculous, for one. He said as much to Gladio. The bodyguard just listened as Prompto slowly gathered his thoughts. Single words just came out as he thought about his emotions. And finally, _scared_ came up as one of the options. “I’m scared I made the wrong choice,” he said. “Maybe I shouldn’t’ve changed. Maybe I should’ve just… stayed the same.” He let the words settle and shook his head. No, the weight wasn’t entirely the problem. Weight comes and goes; it’s just about regulating. What was the problem for him was how he ate, how he isolated himself. He bought food that was cheap. He left to go take pictures and barely even that. He left for school, literally because he _had_  to. He was a kid with little parental guidance because both of his worked so hard, and he didn't have any friends…

It was easy to keep talking then. In his life, he didn’t think too much about his weight as no one ever bullied him for it, but he still didn’t do much to take care of himself either. And at a single word Noctis offhandedly uttered all those years ago with no malice or judgement behind it, Prompto felt it was time to change. That was it; that was all it took. Staring at the fast food he had been binging on before that moment made him realise that he was just… he was just all wrong. He wanted to get out; he wanted to make friends, and so he did it. Losing weight was the first step to doing more. He proved to himself that he could be dedicated; he proved to himself that he could set a goal and shoot for it. He proved that he could do the most life changing things in the safest of ways. And he was just a _kid_. He did that by himself, and goddamn it. He was proud!

He balled his fingers up in Gladio’s jacket. Gladio smiled softly at him. Prompto’s heart was pounding in his chest now. He felt bitter at his own self-hatred for dragging him down like this. He was fired up now…!

     Gladio could tell. He began gently petting over Prompto’s side. “So what happened today?” His voice was still even and soothing.

     “I just…” Prompto swallowed and tried to find the words. He could feel all of his conviction slipping out of him. What _did_ happen today? It was all in his head, in a way. “I just came out of the shower, and I was looking at myself– really looking at myself. And I just had this shock. ‘That’s me. That guy in the mirror with all those marks.’ …And I couldn’t stop staring at it, at any of them. Even after I put on all my clothes, I just couldn't stop _staring._  I tried so hard to make myself better, and it just… it feels like I failed. Like– the transformation couldn’t be– ta-da!– so easy.” Prompto shook his head. “I’ve to carry a reminder all over me. And if I just end up hating it, then was there even a point in any of this? Did I waste three years for nothing?”

     “It’s just not easy,” Gladio said, shaking his head. His voice was a little amused.

     Prompto laughed softly, sadly. “It’s not…!” He leaned his head down and pressed his ear to Gladio’s chest. “It’s really not…”

He listened to the strong heart beat under the strong, muscular chest. Prompto brought up a hand, tracing the tattooed eagle’s beak before relaxing his fingers.

     “I envy you…” Prompto said, feeling foolish for the admission.

     “Me?”

     “Yeah. You got to grow up like this.”

     Gladio laughed, chest bouncing Prompto’s head slightly. “Trust me. It wasn’t easy.” Gladio huffed a final laugh. “I've been training for as long as I could remember. If I even knew about you back then, I mighta felt compelled to put you through the ringer if you wanted to exercise.”

     “Oh god,” Prompto breathed with a smile, closing his eyes.

     “Yeah, I was a mean little cuss back then, but… It still wasn’t easy either. Maybe it wasn’t always the best– waking up at dawn after falling asleep an hour before then. It wasn’t easy following around a kid I kinda hated for a brief amount of time. But I didn’t think about it with my family how it was.” 

     “I just wish I—“

     “Nah you don’t,” Gladio intervened gently. “You did the better thing. It just works out for you.”

     Prompto lifted his head and looked to Gladio. They stared at each other silently, and then Gladio brought his attention to the sky. He pointed up at a dust cloud of stars. “Look at that.”

     Prompto turned his head, searching the darkness before finding where Gladio was pointing. “Yeah?”

     “Ya got some of that on you.” Gladio brought his hand down and wiggled his index finger against Prompto’s shoulder.

     Prompto thought the same earlier, and hearing it repeated out loud by someone else made him blush slightly. “Nah, not really.”

     “Yeah, you do. Little there… and here.” Gladio touched at both of Prompto’s cheeks. He then smiled as he cupped Prompto’s left cheek, thumbing away a tear Prompto wasn’t aware had fallen. “If the natural world can like you, can the rest of us too?”

     Prompto pursed his lips, trying not to smile. He merely nodded.

     “And, even if it’s not today or even tomorrow,” Gladio began as he pulled Prompto completely over his body. He rested his hands on the blond’s lower back, "can you promise that one day you’ll like yourself too? Even for a little while?”

     Prompto felt himself about to cry again. He gave a shy little laugh and looked down to his fingers splayed over Gladio’s chest. “I’ll try,” he promised in a whipser.

     “Hey, I like when you try. If those marks tell me anything, it’s that you always succeed.”

     Prompto looked up, feeling warmth along his face. “Sometimes I fail,” he replied softly.

     “No, you _succeed_  at trying, and if you don’t actually accomplish what you wanted to do, that’s a different story— not that that’s a bad thing to do. You can still learn something from not meeting a goal.” Gladio smirked then. “I’ve failed a few things or two, so I’m kinda an expert on that.”

     “Are you?”

     “Let me tell you.” Gladio brought up a hand to Prompto’s head, coaxing the blond down as he talked.

Prompto set his head down agains Gladio's chest and listened as Gladio talked about his little sister Iris. Gladio started to tell a story about when Iris was six years old, and he wanted to do all the decorations by himself. Oh, the calamity that followed. He had a great idea to use sparkler fireworks, not even aware about had bad an idea _that_ would be. Prompto felt himself falling asleep. Gladio’s voice went quieter and quieter until it just wasn’t there at all. His lips parted in his sleep; his breath left him in soft exhales. He wasn’t completely aware when Gladio stroked over his back or even when he was picked up. He certainly missed the soft forehead kiss and the fond whisper of “We’re proud of you…”

He missed it all. Honestly, he did, but he knew that he had the best sleep of his life that night.

 

When Prompto woke up, it was long before the others. He sat up groggily and looked at the other three who kept dozing in the tent. There was a slight chill in the air. It must have rained last night. He kind of wanted to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t just yet. Prompto grunted softly as he sat up properly. He crossed his legs in front of himself and flicked his gaze between the others once again. He silently relived yesterday's events and picked through what he could remember of the quiet talk he had last night with Gladio. Prompto yawned and stretched up his arms. After dropping them down, he scratched at his stomach mindlessly but then felt over the stretch marks, slowing his fingers almost immediately.

There was a small pain in his heart. There was a brief bout of dissatisfaction, but on the whole, he didn’t feel sad– or worried– or empty like last night. No… This time, he felt determination. He felt a new conviction rise up in his sorrow’s place. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever really make peace with his stretch marks, and the idea of this being a lifelong conflict felt a little threatening. But for the people who loved them and cared about him so much, he would try. He would try his damnedest to be okay. After all, he came too far to give it all up now. 

He worked too damn hard to let himself go without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing this little note in because I'm just… wow. Thank you all, really. I'm glad (glad?) that a lot of you could relate to this work, and know that I don't always respond to comments, but trust me. I've been reading them.
> 
> It's been… something else, writing this, but I'm glad you enjoyed.


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